


Estinien's Advice

by Kami_Megugu



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Coitus Interruptus, F/M, Office Sex, Patch 3.0: Heavensward Spoilers, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:18:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22130125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kami_Megugu/pseuds/Kami_Megugu
Summary: What happens when two over-stressed workaholics make small talk about ways to relax?  Not what they had expected, that's for sure.
Relationships: Aymeric de Borel/Warrior of Light
Comments: 6
Kudos: 56





	Estinien's Advice

**Author's Note:**

> 1st fic! Please let me know if there are any typos or whatnot or if I missed any Tags that should be added! Feedback is certainly appreciated! :)
> 
> Used my WOL mostly for name, but she is fairly generic in description.

Meg was trying to recall what exactly led to this but...was struggling to...to her defense she was presently more than a little preoccupied- She had come to the Congregation to check up on Ser Aymeric before she left for the Aery. While not really a healer she knew enough to help expedite things, especially when the patient refused to take time to rest. She...she had all but demanded he take off at least the decorative part of his armor so she could more easily get to the injuries underneath- leaving the esteemed Lord Commander in naught but his boots, pants and undershirt. Meg had slid her hands over the soft tunic feeling along his ribs to where the breaks were so she could focus the healing magics there, but her hands ended up under his shirt...probably due to her impatience and lack of expertise in the area. To distract from the discomfort of the situation they’d been talking...ironically about how they both needed to relax some. She had made some comment about how Estinien claimed a good tumble in the sheets every now and then seemed to clear his head, but she rambled about how that was much easier said than done. Who has time to find someone to bed anyway? That had Aymeric laughing, then grimacing from a twinge of pain in his ribs, as he said Estinien had shared similar sentiment with him. She muttered healing spells just under her breath. Meg traced her fingers along his side, trying to feel for any other points still actually broken when she made the mistake to look at him. Honestly, she glanced up only but for a second, but that moment of eye contact was really all it took...for either of them. Considering the present situation of him half dressed and standing much closer than normal paired with the trailing of her fingers along his torso while she leaned back against his desk. Add that to the present conversation, could anyone blame her? That one moment of eye contact and talking about Estinien’s opinions on stress outlets- of all things was just... enough.

Meg really doesn’t remember who made “the first move”. Sure, they had looked at each other, but then what? All she knew was that her mouth was pressed against his and the gentle fingers she had along his ribs were quickly turning to needy pulls along his back. 

“You’re thinking…” mumbled Aymeric against the side of Meg’s head interrupting her thoughts-4 close enough to her ear that his breath whispers across it, “we can stop. This was not my intentions, I hadn’t meant…” his voice laced with sudden uncertainty. 

“No, please don’t,” Meg interrupts him as he makes a start to pull away, afraid he had crossed a line. Despise his larger stature she easily pulls him back to her, closer than before, bodies pressed together.

Aymeric effortlessly picks her up, placing the Warrior of Light on the edge of the desk. His hands grip her legs to hold her in place, thumbs rubbing not quite close enough to make things really interesting. She thinks she hears a deep “thank the Fury” before feeling his mouth on hers again. Meg deepens the kiss, if possible, and one of his hands moves up to hold her head. But it is still not enough. Now that they’ve had a taste, wet their appetite so to speak- they both know any attempt to not feast on this opportunity would be futile. 

Breaking for a moment she pants, “more...I need you...all of you…now,” as her hands drift lower to the small of his back before catching in his waistband and moving to the front to work on the lacing. She could tell he was already as aroused as she, manipulating the tight laces was not helping her impatience. Meg felt the snaps down the front of her robe pop open and the wool shirt she wore underneath pushed up to reveal her breasts. It’s but a moment later her mouth is left empty and gasping when Aymeric shifts his attention to her now bared chest. 

One of his hands easily holds her breast, nipple rolling between long fingers. His mesmerizing mouth occupies itself on the other side of her chest, his other hand moving up from it’s place on her thigh to rub against her side and lower back. Still struggling with his damned lacing, Meg takes a moment to drink in the sight and sensations. In doing so she becomes very aware of their size difference. 

She notices he had to take a step back to allow him room to lower his head to her chest like that, earlier even perched on the desk she was looking quite a bit up in order to meet his lips. His fingers lengthy enough her breast nearly seemed small under them, and she certainly was not. The mere idea of any part of him entering her heightened her moans as she gave up (temporarily) on undoing his trousers. Instead reaching up to the top of her leggings and working them down, best she could while sitting. Aymeric, noticing the wiggling beneath him quickly caught on to her attempts and picked her up yet again. Just long enough for her to shove the tight leathers and her smalls out of the way. Well, as out of the way as thighboots allow. 

Aymeric sets her back onto the desk, mentally acknowledging for the first time the perfect height of it. He moves one of his hands back to her leg almost nearly where it was before. The softness of her flesh making his breath catch, before he sucks in sharply, gasping because she bit him. And not gently either he muses to himself, as she continues to worry the skin.

“Either help me with these laces or I will bloody cut them,” Meg threateningly growls in his ear, “they’re pissing me off, and I am of the belief that this sort of thing is typically mutual unless you Ishgardians have some ridiculous tradition in the matter I am unaware of.” She then presses a slow kiss against the teeth marks he is sure now decorate the side of his neck. 

The Commander chuckles, “as you wish,” before reaching down and fairly easily undoing the knot at the top with one hand. 

He can tell she is about to retort after she struggled with the lacing for so long, but taking a moment of boldness he silences her. Aymeric begins with his lips, quickly kissing deeper, coercing her to surrender her mouth to him so he can slide his tongue inside to tase her. Then, pulling himself away he slides his fingers into her waiting mouth before she has the chance to open her eyes. Those lips which oh so frequently utter spells of destruction close around his two fingers with a barely muffled moan before she catches on to his intentions. She swirls her tongue around and between them making sure they are well covered in saliva. He makes to pull them out but before he is able to do so she moves her head closer to his palm taking the whole length of them into her mouth. She opens her eyes. Looks at him. Then sucking deeply around them with another moan before working to better coat them. Aymeric uses the rest of his fingers to play across her face, thumb tracing the kiss-bruised lips before she finally surrenders his hand back to him. Meg gives him a knowing glance, smirking as she realizes her retaliation to his plan worked. He throbbed against the pants he still had on. 

He allowed her to reach for him and pull him closer once more by gripping the laces and pulling the top looser as she did so. He sighed, deep and low, at the relief of pressure and the thought of what was to come. With no hesitation she worked the trousers down with one hand while with the other she reached in and touched him. Quick to pull his length from its confines before pushing the other side of his pants just barely out of the way before refocusing on her target. 

It had been quite some time since someone had touched him like this- so intimate and full of want. Long strokes, taking their time to feel him, to size him up as it were. Aymeric could see the intensity in her gaze as she took the sight of him in.

“I’d suggest doing something with those fingers, Ser. It appears this may be a tight fit,” looking up at him with lust in her eyes and a quirked eyebrow, dexterous hand continuing it’s ministrations.

“Begging your pardon, something distracted me,” smirking back before offering his fingers once more to her mouth. The sensation of her tongue paired with the drawn out rhythm of her hand pulled forth a deep moan. Fury, help him if he makes it inside her, he already felt himself building up. 

He lowered his hand not currently held captive, to her ass. Why had he never noticed how delightfully curvaceous she was before? He caresses it and her lower back gently before grasping her at the softest handful and dragging her forward till she was barely still seated on his desk. Aymeric had her perched on the very edge. 

Pulling his fingers from her he instructs in a near purr, “lean back just slightly, I’ll not let you fall.” She does as he requests, never stopping her hand, and using her other arm to help hold her up, he takes a moment to brush a few strands of hair from her face before shifting his attention. 

He glances down, drinking in the sight of her. Half undressed and all but displayed for him. She left one leg dangling off the table, but managed to prop her other up near his waist by resting the ball of her foot on the armrest of his chair. He’d have to remember that for later as well- when was his office constructed so conveniently for this sort of meeting? 

Aymeric holds the small of her back, and moves closer between her legs. He finally allows himself to touch her, the gasp that breaks through her lips brings him that much closer to his own pleasure. He circles his thumb over her clit, noticing the wetness already there and she rocks into his hand. 

“If anything is uncomfortable, please tell me.” He fervently requests, holding eye contact, thumb pressing against her, and just barely grazing her entrance with the two already moistened fingers. In all truth he likely hadn’t needed to worry about such, she was plenty wet- nearly dripping in fact, but he preferred to be cautious. He’d hate to cause any displeasure- especially now. 

Aymeric watches her expression intently as he slides his fingers in, careful not to go too fast, too deep before she is ready for it. She’s already gasping from the feeling of his thumb rubbing against her, and the slow push of his fingers in make her breath catch and eyes flutter closed. He stops when he reaches his second knuckle, and curls his fingers up, knowing roughly where her sweet spot should be...assuming Hyur anatomy was similar to Elezen. 

“Just a bit deeper, then do that again,” the Warrior whispers eyes still shut. Her hand touching him moved down to fondle his balls, massaging them and blessedly, giving him a moment to move back from the edge he was approaching far quicker than he would have liked. 

He did as she asked and was richly rewarded. Her back arched with the feeling of it and her chest fell as all breath she was holding rushed out in a throaty moan. Aymeric repeated the action a few times, memorizing the spot and the best way to hit it, somehow he could feel her growing even wetter. He moved his fingers apart, scissoring them slightly then more so, diligent to glance over the location he had discovered periodically. While still tight she did seem ready for more. Taking her mouth in his again he moved his fingers into her fully, deliberately pushing up against the top of her to draw out another needy cry into his mouth. He began to take his time now, she was so warm but yet so snug. He wanted to be sure she was ready. Aymeric began the same process of spreading his fingers apart that he had done earlier. This time also able to apply pressure and friction to her clit with his thumb. Meg was all but writhing below him. 

She broke the kiss. Head to the ceiling, chest heaving for breath. Her free hand grasping at his skin. Her voice began to rise and break. The Lord Commander pressed down with his thumb and up with his fingers vigorously rubbing to the point his hand was making small vibrations against where it was most effective. He watched her come undone. His name upon her lips. The final coiling build up within her as everything grew more tense before the climax and relief of it all. Her shoulders and chest visibly falling, poorly muffled cry bursting past her lips, her body tensing and relaxing around his fingers, opening for more. 

Nearly pulling his two fingers all the way out he wet another using the fluids dripping from her. He traced her entrance with the tip of a third finger and began to ease it inside along the first two. Now that he'd seen her come apart, he needed to again, and again.

“Seven hells, Aymeric,” Meg declares between deep breaths interrupted by small moans, “I am nearly senseless already.”

He simply blushed in response, small smile the only sigh of his satisfaction, well, other than the very obvious erection which was now pearling liquid at it’s tip. 

“I appreciate your attention to detail and patience in the matter,” *gasp* Aymeric slides his third finger half way in pressed up alongside the others as she closes her eyes once again, “but...if we do not hurry things along I worry that a certain dragoon may grow impatient and come looking for me.”

“Hmm, fair point. Are you sure though? I do not wish you cause you any discomfort,” He punctuates his question with another well placed brush if his fingers and feather light kisses along her jaw.

“I’ll be fine, if I’m not I’ll let you know.”

Aymeric nods his head into her neck before standing up. He removes his fingers from her, trailing them all down her weeping entrance to gather as much of her natural lubricant as he can before taking himself in hand. Working his hand up and down his length much like Meg had earlier, he bites back a moan. Had it really been so long that even this felt so good? He takes a moment to firmly grip around his base, hopefully earning himself a bit more time. He guides her dangling leg to the edge of the desk, trying to open her as much as possible. Instead she hooks her leg around his hips, pulling him to her.

Returning one hand to the small of her back to hold her steady, he holds himself at her entrance, rubbing the head around it, steeling himself to not lose control. She bucked her hips forward, having been watching him, and after a bit of resistance he popped inside. They both failed to hold back moans. 

“Just, go slowly, but please. I want this, I’ll be fine.” As she rocked herself up just slightly once again, encouraging him to move deeper inside her. 

Aymeric taking her thigh in his other hand, slowly began to push inside of her. She was so tight around him, so warm, so inviting. He held his breath as he eased into her fully, only letting it out when he could go no further into her. He dropped his head resting it on top of hers. 

“Fury…please tell me when you’ve adjusted,” he pants, then blushing, “I...I may not be able to last long...I’d much prefer for it to be enjoyable for you as well.”

Lifting her head to kiss him she speaks against his lips, “‘tis quite alright, not sure how much I could take to be honest, just...go slowly please. I don’t recall ever being filled in such a manner. I can’t stop shaking from the pleasure of it,” she manages to get out between breaths.

It was then that he did notice she was indeed trembling under him. So focused was he on prolonging things he had not noticed. He simply kissed her again, taking her mouth with his own to muffle their cries against each other. Then he slowly rocked back, just a few inches. Just enough for them both to become accustomed to the feeling of each other. 

Never quickly, perhaps nearly painfully slowly, Aymeric continued to steadily move back and forth within her. Each stroke slightly longer than the last until he was retreating all but the tip. Settling on a leisurely pace, he felt her arms pulling him closer yet again, one hand buried itself in his midnight black hair, the other gently scratching down his back. Both moaning and gasping against the other, he felt her breath grow shallow and rapid once again, not terribly different from his own.

Separating himself from her mouth yet again, he rested his forehead against hers, “Fury...I’m...close…” Aymeric struggles to get out.

“Me too,” Meg whispers, “just...stay in me…don’t stop.”

He reaches his hand from her back into her hair, pulling them even closer together, forcing her head back, breathing against his ear, and he lowers his hand to rub once again on her clit. Small, vibrating circles that send her panting for breath. 

It’s but a moment more and he feels her climax below him, around him. She somehow tightened even more as she cries into his ear. That’s all it takes to push him over, it’s simply a matter of time now. She tenses with each wave of pleasure and he’s but a few final strokes behind her. He feels himself peak as he buries himself into her one final time, holding her as close as he can and leaning into her so they can barely distinguish where one ends and the other begins. Aymeric’s voice joins hers as he breaks- finally feeling himself spilling inside of her.

Once, and his hips jerk slightly, encouraging more to follow, Meg still clenched around him moaning his name, he nearly sobbed in relief and pleasure. 

A quiet creaking, and footsteps, and a less quiet thud. 

The Lord Commander feels himself release again, more of his cum filling the woman under him, still reacting to every twitch of his cock. He hesitantly peeked an eye open at the unexpected sounds, and drops his head to her shoulder at what he sees- face and ears going crimson.

Standing barely in the doorway, is an all too familiar figure. Dark blue, nearly black armor covered in spikes, long bladed lance across his back, helm down, but an unmissable smirk across his face. “I’ll be at Skysteel when you are...finished,” he curtly and simply states. He turns and leaves, thankfully opening the door the bare minimum to make his exit. The heavy door thuds closed once again. 

Finally coming down from their respective highs, the tangled figures begin to separate.

Still out of breath Meg asked, “that was Estinien, yes?”

“Mmmhmmm, unfortunately so,” Aymeric answers, still blushing. 

“Figures...the arse, he truly does not ever knock does he?”

Aymeric just shakes his head looking at the door.

“Ugh, well...should probably get straightened up then. You know, dragoon to slay and all.”

“You mean dragon?” Queried Aymeric, looking around for something they can wipe off with, and unfortunately settling on his cloak within arms reach across his chair. Reaching for it...barely out of arm's reach. Screwing his face up in thought, and moving Megs legs to wrap around him, “hold on, I can’t quite reach. Can you grab it?” Before he easily picks her up for a third time, still inside her.

“Oh!” she exclaims at the sudden movement shifting the softening erection inside of her, “got it.”

Aymeric turns back around and sets her down as she just was, “sorry, just seemed easier,” he proudly responds trying to minimize the boyish smile across his face, taking significant satisfaction in the ease of being able to hold her as such.

“It’s alright, just surprised me. Not used to being picked up so easily. I’m sorry your cloak is being sacrificed.”

Aymeric simply shrugs and slowly pulls out, “are you sore at all?”

“Nope,” then she moved her legs and stood up, grimacing slightly and leaning back against the desk, hands gripping the edge of it, “okay, yup, definitely a bit sore and my legs are more dead than I realized. I’ll be fine once we get dressed though.”

“I’m sorry, I did not mean to hurt you,” Aymeric looks at her, concern clearly on his face as he grabs her upper arm to help steady her.

“Stop apologizing. You were going to take your sweet time making sure I was completely and entirely ready. So,I am quite alright with any soreness being my fault. I was the one who rushed you. My legs will be fine by the time I meet up with the others and well...the rest before I go dragoon slaying.”

“Dragon.” Aymeric corrects her again, pausing to look at her, eyebrow raised in question.

“I mean what I said,” Meg smartly responds smirking, “but...after sex like that I can probably take care of the dragon too.” She laughs as she finishes snapping her mage’s robe back up. “Let me help with the armor, there’s too many damned pieces.”

“Thank you, it’s doable on my own but extra hands certainly make it much easier,” he smiles back, “are you truly so concerned about Estinien? While, it certainly was not ideal…I do not think he’d spread gossip about it if that is your concern,” he finishes uncertainty, hoping she wasn’t coming to regret what they’d done.

“Honestly, I’m more so dreading the ‘told ya so’ and endless harassment I’m about to face. I’m not sure how nosey he will get, and I tend to keep my personal life well...personal. Side effect of living under the purview of so many people I guess.”

“Understandable, I tend to be much the same. Well, when I have a personal life that is.” 

“Ready?”

“If you are.”

Meg nods, the stoic mask slipping back into place. 

Aymeric follows the Warrior of Light out of his office and into the city. Thankfully the Congregation is mostly empty and no one seems to pay them any mind, other than Lucia shooting him an interrogating look which he ignores. He hopes that they were not so loud that everyone questions what he was doing in his office. 

“How are your legs?” He asks trying to seem nonchalant, “I’d be loath if I left you unprepared for what is to come.” 

“Huh?” Meg turned toward him, having spaced out yet in some amount of post-orgasmic haze, “oh, they’re fine. Perks of being me,” she ends with a wink. 

“Hmm, I had forgotten about your ability to quickly recover, that makes me feel better.”

“You should not be feeling anything other than good right now. I saw your expression.” 

Hoping to quell the blush he feels across his face, “Yes, well...you are indeed quite right. I know this is not the ideal time, but I do hope we can talk some when you return? I certainly enjoyed what...transpired...but I would like to be sure we are on the same page so to speak.”

“Probably wise, although I do despise having to do so. But I agree.” Meg pauses for a moment thinking. “To be fair I had not consciously given it much thought but I think I’d be disappointed if we never settled on what exactly happened...especially if we never clarify if it’ll happen again. I find myself very interested in that part specifically,” she concludes with a teasing smile. 

They descend the final set of stairs and the airship landing and Sea of Clouds come into view. 

“Did we truly arrive before him?” the Lord Commander inquires, eyes scanning the plaza before them in search of their comrade and intruder. 

Pointing to a rooftop across the street from them, “nope, just not looking in the right spot. Gods-damned gargoyle he is sometimes.”

A metallic thud sounds in front of them. 

“I heard that. Here I was, patiently waiting, thinking you’d be nicer to me. Mayhaps even thankful for the advice I so generously gave,” retorted the dragoon, standing from his landing. 

Aymeric simply sighed while Meg stared him down. 

“Granted, not that I thought you’d take said advice in that particular way,” Estinien knowingly smirked as he continued. “I’d have thought the Lord Commander to be much more of a gentleman, at least offering a lady the comforts of a bed to recline on whilst being ravished. I see I was wrong in that regard.” 

The other Elezen simply pinched the bridge of his nose, knowing retorting would simply spur him on further. Meg, however, was not quite so well versed in navigating Estinien harassment.

“Ser Aymeric-“

“Oh, now you include the ‘Ser’,” Estinien interrupts.

Shooting him a death glare, “Ser Aymeric, I’m going back to my original plan.”

Estinien looks on amused.

“Meg...that won’t help.”

“But...it at least would shut him up.”

“I cannot allow it,” he looks at her amused yet exasperated.

“Then pretend you know nothing and I’ll be sure it happens outside the city…far far away…no one would think twice upon finding a dead dragoon in Dravania right?” Meg begins to reach for her staff.

“Really? Threatening me? While the fight would be amusing I do not feel like it presently would be fair considering your condition.”

“My condition?”

“Yes, I’m quite amazed you can still walk comfortably considering what I know of the Lord Commander.” Estinien shoots an amused look at him. Meg, snapping her head to him as well, questions behind her eyes.

Tips of his ears red, “Estinien- that is quite enough,” Aymeric tries to settle into his neutral commanders expression.

“I’ll stop, but you may way to ensure your collar better hides the bite mark next time, Ser. Wouldn’t want anyone speaking inappropriately.”

Meg’s eyes shot wide looking back at Aymeric’s neck. “Shite...I had forgotten…”

Pulling his collar higher up, “it’ll fade ere long. Now, was I mistaken or were the two of you supposed to be doing something of significance today?”

Estinien gives a half hearted attempt at a salute, and Meg walks next to him toward the manacutters. 

“Please be safe, and may the Fury guide you. I await your return,” Aymeric bids them as they climb into their respective airships.

Meg gives her typical stoic nod, but he catches the small smile still playing across her lips.

“Ha, you probably await her return more than mine! I’ll be sure the dread wyrm spares her more attractive parts for you,” Estinien laughs as he takes off, immediately flying high into the sky, without preamble. Meg looks at him with murder once more before following with a hasty wave before, too taking off into the clouds.

The Lord Commander looks at where they were a moment prior in amusement, not entirely sure what to make of this afternoon. He turns back toward the way they came, to begin the walk back to his office. He is not looking forward to resuming his paperwork...but entertained at the possibilities his seat may provide. But...he still grimaces at the thought of what mess may need to be addressed first...he didn’t really give it much mind earlier. Mayhaps he needs a new system of filing the plethora of documentation...one that leaves his desk more empty...and most definitely a lock on the door.


End file.
